To the Heart (Through the Stomach)
by KLMeri
Summary: Meal times as shared by Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. K/S/M.


**Title**: To the Heart (Through the Stomach)  
**Author**: klmeri  
**Fandom**: Star Trek AOS  
**Pairing**: Kirk/Spock/McCoy  
**Summary**: Meal times as shared by Kirk, Spock, and McCoy.  
**A/N**: No reason for this beyond a desire for established, domestic, funny McSpirk. Enjoy.

* * *

There have been more exciting days. Captain James T. Kirk's head drops back against the head rest of his command chair as he counts the panels that make up the ceiling of the Bridge. Generally by the time he reaches one hundred, something happens to draw his attention away. He is awaiting that event somewhat anxiously, drumming the fingertips of his left hand on his chair arm. All that can be heard around him are the usual beeps and blips of the different controls and the sound of rustling uniforms as the other on-duty officers monitor their stations.

Would it be telling if he let out a small sigh? Is anyone else bored besides him?

_Fifty-two_, he counts, momentarily holding his breath. _Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-_

"Captain."

Jim blinks, sits up, and turns toward his First Officer. His "Yes, Mr. Spock?" may sound a bit eager.

Spock stands beside the Science station in parade rest rather than sitting at it. "It is the meal hour, Captain," he says without preamble. "Perhaps you would care to accompany me to the cafeteria?"

"Yes!" Jim responds, leaping out of his chair. He slaps the Vulcan on the shoulder as he passes him by and congratulates him with "Excellent idea, Commander."

Spock makes no comment to that, and together they enter the turbolift. When the door slides closed, Spock presses the comm unit on the wall and requests Dr. McCoy in Sickbay.

The person who answers sounds distracted. "...McCoy here."

"Doctor, the Captain and I are en route to the cafeteria. Are you available to join us?"

"Let me finish up this report first. See you there."

"Acknowledged."

Jim leans across Spock to add, "Don't dawdle, Bones!"

A huff crackles through the speaker. Leonard only replies, "McCoy out," before ending the communication.

Spock cocks his head in Jim's direction. "Was that final remark necessary, Jim?"

"Absolutely," Jim claims.

"You realize that given Leonard's nature your request will have the opposite effect. Leonard will stall his arrival."

Jim smirks. "I'm counting on it, Spock. I'm really craving a hamburger and fries." Food which, of course, is not allowed according to his diet plan, but he's nothing if not a genius at manipulating the replicator so it gives him what he wants, restricted meal card or not.

"Fascinating," is all that Spock says.

* * *

The very last person Jim expects to find waiting at the entrance to the mess hall is there with arms crossed and a severe look on his face. This throws a wrench into Jim's lunch plans.

"Bones," he greets his CMO with exaggerated cheerfulness, "you made it! I thought you had a report to take care of?"

"Who do you think you're fooling, Jim? I always know when you're up to something, and right now you're up to something!"

"Ridiculous," Jim scoffs, flapping a hand in dismissal of the notion. "Spock, what's he talking about?"

"Should I answer that question directly?"

"Never mind," Jim decides quickly. "Spock... why don't you talk to Bones about that _thing_ you mentioned while I go in and grab us a table?"

Spock blinks. "To what you are referring?"

"The _thing_," Jim insists, trying to give his partner-in-crime a meaningful expression.

"I do not understand your meaning, Jim."

"The THING. That's IMPORTANT."

"...I believe I am confused."

With a glance heavenward, Leonard steps forward. "No, you're not, Spock. You're just honest. Let's go in. Jim, do think you can put aside your master plan for a second so we can get in line?"

Muttering something uncomplimentary about his companions, Jim moves ahead of them into the cafeteria. Aware that the window of opportunity to obtain his hamburger and his fries is rapidly closing, he surveys his surroundings looking to implement a Plan B. A finger pokes between his shoulder blades as Leonard moves in close behind him and calls his name in warning.

"I'm not doing anything," complains Jim. He's just thinking about what he _can_ do.

"Listen up, French Fry—"

Isn't that an ironic choice of words? "Don't you mean 'small fry', Bones?"

"Whatever. If you think I came down here just to keep you from making bad life choices—"

"That's exactly what you did."

"Would you stop interrupting me! _As I was saying..._"

Jim turns around in that instant, having been struck by a brilliant idea. "Bones," he says in his most earnest tone, reaching up to lock his hands around Leonard's shoulders, "it's been a very difficult day for me. Can't you go easy on me just this once?"

Behind Leonard, Spock raises both of his eyebrows.

The tight pinch of Leonard's mouth softens. "...Bad day?" he repeats. "What happened?"

Jim gives a furtive glance around the Officer's Mess. "This isn't the place to discuss it."

Spock's eyebrows have reached his hairline.

"Oh... all right," concedes the doctor. He hesitates, seeming to debate something over in his mind. "You can have one un-recommended food item."

Jim's face lights up. "Bones, you're the best!"

He lets Leonard go and hurries to close the gap in the line. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Spock catch Leonard's attention and say something to the man.

Uh-oh. Best to get to that replicator, Jim thinks. Spock won't rat him out in a literal sense but he will drop enough hints that has Leonard wondering how an utterly uneventful shift on the Bridge can qualify as a "bad day".

Thus Jim does what he does best: he engages his fellow officers (the ones ahead of him in the line, that is) in stimulating conversation and quickly charms his way to the replicators. Then he works his magic on one of the machines, despite the curious stare of his neighbor, and retrieves a properly nourishing meal for a starship captain. By the time Leonard and Spock wrap up their conversation and look for him, Jim is sitting at an empty section of a long cafeteria table and enjoying his food immensely.

* * *

"I can't believe I fell for it!"

As Jim Kirk listens to his companion, he shovels cake into his mouth at the same time. When Leonard snarls at him and tries to take away his dessert plate with a fork, Jim hunkers over it protectively and eats faster.

"What are you, five?"

"Mine."

"Damn it, Jim, slow down or you'll choke! I swear, why do I even bother with you?!"

Jim licks his fork. "I really like this cake."

"Disgusting," complains Leonard. He makes as if to stand up. "I'm going back to my office."

"Leonard," Spock cuts in, "as the person who invited you, I would appreciate it if you stayed."

Leonard pauses long enough to stare at the Vulcan before sitting back down. "Fine. But only 'cause the request came from _you_, Spock. I don't eat with tricksters."

Jim flicks a crumb at McCoy. "I've been bored out of my mind, Bones. Did you really expect me to have a boring lunch too?"

"I expect you to take your health seriously, Jim."

"I do. I'll exercise for an extra hour tonight. No sweat."

Leonard harrumphs, then quips, "Hardly. You sweat like a horse."

Jim grins and waggles his eyebrows. "Only if I'm having to work hard for something."

"Change of subject," Leonard remarks with a pointed look at their surroundings. He turns to Spock. "You don't find star-charting boring, do you, Spock?"

"'Boring' is an emotional human adjective. One either has interest or one does not. I assure you that I find the subject sufficiently interesting.

"Well, do you find it _satisfying_?"

Spock pauses. "Affirmative."

Leonard mock-gasps. "Heaven forbid, the Vulcan just had a feeling!"

Jim coughs into his drink to hide his laugh. "Ease up, Bones. You shouldn't pick a fight with Spock simply because you're frustrated with me."

"Who says we're fighting? I keep Spock intellectually stimulated."

"That is not how I would describe the effect of our conversations, Doctor."

"At least I don't _bore_ you."

"You do not."

Spock blinks after confessing this then stiffens, no doubt realizing what trap he just walked into.

Leonard grins, his _gotcha!_ evident without needing to be spoken, and Jim ducks his head, trying in vain to quell his own mirth. He doesn't miss the way Leonard shifts in his seat following a second or two and casually bumps his hand against the side of Spock's to let their companion know the joke is only in fun.

Spock's posture returns to normal, and he resumes his meal.

Jim kind of wishes he was sitting on the other side of the table with them. It suddenly feels very lonely where he is.

"Can we meet for dinner?" he asks.

Leonard looks regretful. "I truly do have a stack of paperwork on my desk, Jim."

Jim thinks about that and adds glumly, "So do I."

"Perhaps a late dinner would be more appropriate," Spock suggests.

"I could do that."

Jim nods. "Me too. My quarters?"

"Where else?" responds Leonard, who follows his remark with a wink. "There's nowhere like home."

A man of Jim's charm and experience should _not_ be blushing. He clears his throat to regain his composure, straightens in his seat and stacks his various dishes into a tower on his tray. "Until this evening, gentlemen." When Spock lowers his fork, Jim shakes his head. "Finish your meal. Keep Bones company. I'll see myself to the Bridge."

"Jim," Leonard calls as Jim starts to walk away.

He turns back.

"I'll be in charge of arranging dinner tonight."

"If that's what you want, Bones."

"Get out of here, kid."

Jim salutes him smartly and does exactly that.

* * *

If Jim had been in charge of dinner, he would have broken out the caviar and champagne. The classier, the better to his way of thinking. Leonard brings a salad, protein cubes, and hard liquor. Jim supposes they can't have the same taste in everything.

But when Jim reaches for the brandy, he gets his hand smacked.

"That's for later," he's told. "I'll be moderating your intake."

"And who will be moderating yours?" Jim shoots back.

Leonard rolls his eyes. "Who do you think?"

That mollifies Jim somewhat. "Fine," he agrees, pulling out a chair to sit down at the round table where they always dine. "I hope you realize that I kept my word and exercised for an extra thirty minutes, then let Giotto bust my butt on the mat." He frowns. "And all you can offer me for my suffering is salad?"

Leonard pushes forward the plate of protein cubes.

"Yummy," Jim deadpans.

Spock arrives a few minutes later bearing a tray laden with bowls and mugs.

Jim straightens up in excitement. "What'd you bring me, Spock?"

"Leonard suggested that you would appreciate a second course." The Vulcan looks very pleased with himself. "I noticed that last time you finished all of your plomeek soup. Therefore I have brought more."

In actuality, Jim poured his bowl into a plant when Spock wasn't looking. Sulu warned Jim that should another plant under the Captain's care suffer a sudden demise, he will ask Spock to look into the matter. (That traitor.)

Jim plasters a smile on his face and wills himself not to spear the smirking Leonard with a nasty look. "You're very thoughtful, Spock. Thank you." The tea Spock has also provided, however spicy, he can consume without issue and gladly takes a proffered mug. Leonard pushes a plate of leafy green things towards him and Jim accepts it with only a small amount of muttering under his breath. He vows to eat it all just to spite the man.

Dinner is enjoyable despite the lack of Jim-Kirk-approved food, and in no time the three men have cracked open that much-anticipated bottle of brandy and are relaxing afterwards. It isn't the expensive kind, or exotic like Saurian brandy, but the flavor is good and even Spock accepts a small portion in a glass. Despite that the Vulcan can imbibe more than both humans at the table combined and remain unaffected, Spock has no true liking for it. Personally Jim thinks that Spock is more opposed to the strong smell of liquor than its taste, but neither he nor Bones can get him to admit it.

Jim's attention turns to Leonard at that thought, and he notes that the man is comfortably slouched in his chair with one leg thrown over the chair's arm. Although Jim loves Leonard when he's prickly and is used to dealing with that side of him daily, there is something very special about a carefree Leonard McCoy. Even McCoy's trademark sarcasm seems to have a more pleasant edge.

He cannot help but give voice to his thoughts. "Don't you wish it could always be like this?"

"Like what, Jim?"

Jim opens his hand to their surroundings. "This. Us. No fighting. No formalities."

"Just brandy and good company?"

"Something like that."

"I don't know," Leonard answers honestly. "Wouldn't we become too comfortable with each other over time?"

Jim rolls his glass between his hands. He doesn't see that as a bad thing. "Isn't that the endgame?"

Leonard's mouth quirks. "Spock. You're quiet over there. Any thoughts to add?"

"In my experience, a companion who can be a comfort as well as a confidante is rare indeed and should be treasured."

Jim raises his glass to that. "Well said."

"You're a romantic, Spock," Leonard remarks. "I wouldn't have guessed."

Jim laughs softly. "Liar, liar, Bones. You were the first one to point out that Spock was so attentive to us because he liked us."

"Lucky guess."

Jim shakes his head. "It's not something I would have thought of in a million years."

"Pfft, you'd better stop, Jim. You're embarrassing Spock. His ears are turning green."

Even if Spock is embarrassed, he is never one to back out of a discomforting conversation. "Were my intentions so transparent?"

Leonard grins. "It's the little gifts that did it, sweetheart."

"I like gifts," Jim adds. "Especially when it's somebody volunteering to do my paperwork."

Leonard's arm shoots out to smack Jim on the shoulder. Jim leans out of reach.

"Infant," Leonard accuses him.

"Old man," retorts Jim.

"May I ask a question?"

Leonard and Jim cease their by-play and turn towards Spock as one.

"What is it?" Jim says.

"Did my interest not raise concerns?"

Jim lifts his eyebrows. "What was there to be concerned about?"

Spock looks to Leonard.

"You think we might have had reservations about you," Leonard surmises. "As what, Spock? A Vulcan? A fellow officer? A male? Obviously we didn't."

"One cannot predict a matter of the heart, Leonard, although I did decide to throw hope into the equation."

Leonard snorts. "You make love sound like math."

"I have found similarities in both."

"You're poetic tonight, Spock," Jim teases.

"Why, thank you, Jim."

Leonard mumbles something under his breath and plays with the tumbler in his hand.

As relaxed as Jim is, he recognizes a sign of when to be wary. "Something on your mind, Bones?"

"Well, now that we're on the subject, and with our anniversary coming up—"

Jim curses silently in his head. He is terrible with dates.

Leonard finishes, "—shouldn't we tell somebody about us?"

"Like who?" Jim asks.

Leonard cuts a sideways look at Jim. "I dunno. Maybe your mother?"

Jim is glad he isn't drinking anything at that particular moment; it is bad enough choking on his own spit. "_What?_"

Leonard switches his gaze to Spock. "Or your father?"

"Is that what you desire, Leonard?" Spock asks calmly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jim interjects, sitting up and then leaning forward. "I thought we were keeping 'us' private."

Leonard sips at his drink. "I'm pretty certain we gotta tell somebody at some point."

Spock, still sounding quite collected, wants to know, "What is your reasoning?"

"There are a lot of reasons, Spock. Say, for instance, if one of us gets sick."

Jim opens his mouth.

"_Off_ the Enterprise," Leonard clarifies quickly. "Significant others have rights, you know, if they're _acknowledged._"

"I have rights as your captain," Jim argues.

Leonard meets his eyes. "You won't always be my captain, Jim."

Jim has no smart reply for that. His throat works as he swallows.

"Leonard." Spock says the name in a gentle way. "If you wish to let my father know, you may—or rather, I will apprise him of our relationship."

Jim reaches for his discarded drink. He needs it. This is a conversation that doesn't make him comfortable for reasons he cannot explain.

"Thank you," Leonard replies earnestly. Then the man pauses, purses his mouth. "What do you think he'll say?"

"I am reasonably certain that he would tell me to be safe."

This time Jim does spit out his drink.

Leonard's eyes widen.

Spock just looks at them as if what he said could not possibly be strange.

"Spock," Jim begins once he can talk again, "I don't think your, uh—I don't think _Sarek_ would say that." He considers Spock's expression. "...Or maybe he would?"

"To be safe is to proceed cautiously and with particular attention to one's own well-being. Why would my father not wish for my safety, Jim?"

"Clearly the Vulcans don't use that phrase in the context that humans do," says Leonard.

Jim echoes a strangled "...Clearly."

"I do not understand. What other context is there?"

Leonard just shakes his head.

Jim takes pity on the Vulcan. "It's something parents might say to their hormonal children. You know, 'be safe'."

Spock blinks.

Leonard makes a disbelieving noise at such cluelessness and blurts out, "With respect to sex, Spock! Sex!"

Spock lifts an eyebrow. "I see... I suppose his wish for my safety would include intercourse."

Jim drops his forehead to the table and slaps a hand to the back of his neck. "Spock," he tells the table, "you're killing us here."

Leonard can be heard choking. "...My god..._Vulcans_."

"Again, your reactions are hardly logical. Jim, does your neck bother you? Leonard, please relinquish the bottle. Your low tolerance for this substance will lead you to be ill."

"Jim," Jim's human partner whines, "he took the liquor away!"

That might be a good thing. Jim sighs loudly as he lifts his head. "Bones. Spock. There are days when I honestly think I am crazy... but there is one crazy thing I never want to regret, and that's falling in love with you. Please," he begs, "help me out on this one. Let's do this as normally as possible. Let's—"

"Tell our families?" Leonard suggests.

"Be safe?" questions Spock.

"—just get married at the next space-station, _then drop_ the bomb on everybody at once."

Leonard and Spock stare at him. Eventually Leonard turns to Spock.

"Was that a marriage proposal?"

"Apparently so."

"Were you expecting him to say that?"

"Negative."

"Well shit."

Jim sticks his hands under the table and grips his knees. Sometimes his mouth has a mind of its own.

The silence continues.

Jim swallows. "Maybe you could give me an answer?" When a word still isn't said, he goes with "M-Maybe you could give me an answer later?"

Leonard and Spock are silently communicating across the table. Jim starts to feel queasy. He has been known to leap into the line of fire without much thought before, but this might be one of those times when he really should have—

"...Okay."

Jim looks to Leonard.

"Yes," confirms Spock.

Jim looks to Spock.

It's a great thing to be sitting, Jim Kirk decides, as he goes boneless in his chair, barely managing to keep himself upright by planting his palms against the table.

"Jim, you look like you could use another drink. Spock, give the man another drink."

Jim accepts a refill from Spock. "Thanks. That's the scariest thing I've ever done," he admits.

"And we love you for it," Leonard replies. "No pun intended."

"You're hilarious, Bones."

"You crack me up, kid."

"You—"

Leonard lifts a hand to stall their childish game. Then he reaches out without another word and takes a hold of Jim's hand. Grateful for the contact, Jim locks their fingers together. Spock remains standing by his side, decanter in hand, just in between him and Leonard. Spock's presence is, as usual, a strength that Jim can draw from.

"What'd you say we retire this conversation for the night?" Leonard asks Spock and Jim.

"If that means what I think it means," Jim says, "I'm all in."

"You have a great affinity for physical contact," Spock observes.

"By that, Spock means to say he's never met anybody who likes to cuddle as much as you do, sailor boy."

"Aw, do you want to play sailors now, Bones?"

"Don't push your luck," Jim is warned. "I haven't forgotten about lunch."

Oops, Kirk thinks. He really does have to work on his master plans. And maybe his timing.

But those things hardly seem to matter when he has his two favorite people with him.

"As long as you're staying, that's good enough for me." He stands up and turns toward a different part of his quarters, then pauses to wink back at Spock and Leonard from over his shoulder. "First one in bed gets all the covers!" he declares before racing away.

There is a scrape of a chair against the floor and a murmur of voices.

Jim enters his private bedroom with a smile, knowing beyond a doubt that he need not worry about his lovers following him.

_-Fini_


End file.
